Consuming my semen prevents cancer, promotes weight loss, improves mood and prevents heart disease.

Care to expand the story (involves female scat)?

I'm not good at story writing, hence the following request: I would love to read a story about a secret female-scat fetishist society that surreptitiously farms the poop of young, beautiful women by employing them as fashion models or hosting them in what is supposedly a modeling or finishing school. The unaware models are put on a special diet that significantly reduces the toxicity of their poop, improves the aroma and taste, and generally causes them to have large and healthy bowel movements. Given some convincing excuse, the models would be ordered to empty their bowels into two porcelain pots, one would hold their piss, the other their prized poop. Maids would then remove the pots and deliver them to the groups secret confectionary were connoisseurs of female manure would taste and grade the "fruit" of the harvest. The best, that is the most fragrant and piquant of the pee would be set aside in order to produce fine vintages named after the girl in whom it was originally brewed. Lesser quality product would be mixed to produce girl-pee soda for fetishists; a special cream-pee soda, containing fragrant pussy secretions, would also be made. Since half the excitement for a girl-poop aficionado lies in admiring the unique shape of a particular day's poop, grade-A quality poop would congealed in transparent jelly and then canned to prevent loss of original shape and to ensure maximum freshness. Each can of a particular girl's poop would contain a photo of the girl who pooped it, emphasizing her best physical attributes. Girl's with a tendency to drip a lot of pussy cream when they poop would be specially desirable and any cream collected in their poop pots would be canned along with the poop, and advertised accordingly. "Rotten-panty-tacos" would also be prepared by wrapping her poop into one of her used panties that was previously soaked in her pee, topping it off with some of her own cream, and packaging the resulting confection in a beautiful, gourmet-food can. Of course our chefs and culinary artists would be experts in preparing addictive dishes made from our girls' fresh and canned poop, pee, and cream. Our girls, without knowing it of course, would be fed these and other natural and organic female-farmed delicacies from time to time.

This experience is why I am obsessed with Louise Ogborn. She is like a hero to me because her experience lead to the capture of her abusers. She is beautiful and has been through so much, like me, and our cases are so similar. But if you ever see the comments on the internet about her, everyone says how stupid she is to have fallen for the hoax. Everyone says she�s so stupid for believing the phony cop and for taking her clothes off in the first place. Everyone says she�s so stupid for thinking that any of the things they made her do were part of a legitimate police investigation. Everyone says she�s so stupid for thinking that a cop would really demand that she give the man watching her oral sex.
Maybe I�m the only one who will ever truly understand her. I understand that she is not stupid. But ever since my first rape, I have felt retardedly stupid every day. I always feel like the most stupid person in the room. I have an inferiority complex. You�ll understand why later if you read about my second rape.

Two weeks went by and I hadn�t heard anything more about the investigation. I hadn�t heard anything from the cops, although I was constantly paranoid that they would show up at any time, wherever I was, at home, at school, at work, and drag me off to jail, or worse, another search.
Then one day I came back from my lunch break at work, and I went up to the break room to put my purse back in my locker and there he was, the loss prevention guy. He smiled with crocodile teeth when he saw me and I never made it to the break room, he diverted me into the conference room. He told me to have a seat so we could talk some more about the investigation and then he picked up the phone and paged another girl that worked as a cashier. I barely knew her because she was a grade below me. I knew that she was only 15 though, and just barely turned 15 at that! She eventually came to the conference room and was sat down next to me. The loss prevention guy talked to us for a little, asking us for the names of anyone that we thought was stealing. He asked us who we knew that might be willing to steal. He told us that the reason we were suspected was because the description that the jewelry store gave was of a young skinny girl with big breasts. We both met that description. She was younger, just about as skinny as me, and had big breasts for her size too, but still slightly smaller than mine, I think she was prettier than me.
After some of those stupid questions, he said that he had to do another quick search because, not having had anything on us on just the one day that they did the initial search could have been luck, but if he searched us again and again, found nothing, then it would prove our innocence. He also said that he needed to take more pictures of us. He reminded us that we had both promised to cooperate with the investigation and that if he needed to, he could have the detective come down personally to do the search and take the pictures. All the while he was setting up that tripod again and setting up the video camera. We both said that we didn�t want the detective to have to come, so he told us to take our clothes off. He said he was going to the break room for a second and that when he got back, we had better be naked, and if not there would be trouble and we would be making it worse for ourselves. We both slowly started undressing. I knew that I was just putting off the inevitable, but I was slow taking off my clothes. I hoped that if I wasn�t nude, but still in the process of taking my clothes off when he got back, that would be good enough. But soon enough he came back, dragging in a trash barrel with him with an empty liner. He told us to put our clothes into the barrel, along with my purse too.
Once again, there I was in that God forsaken room, nude and in front of a video camera, but this time there was another girl with me going through the same thing. This time was different though. It was like he was picking up where he left off. No pretense, he just felt at ease telling us to get naked, put our hands behind our heads, do this, do that! He asked us what we thought about each others� bodies. He asked me if I thought she was sexy. He asked her the same. And he touched us a lot more too. He touched our breasts for no good reason whenever he wanted. He fondled them, pinched them, squeezed them together. He had us lay on the table and spread our legs and our labias so he could take more pictures of us like that. Then he put his finger in us. The other girl started crying �Why? Why? Why are you doing this?� He didn�t answer. He just smiled and kept fingering us both at the same time. I hated him, but I felt powerless. I felt like he was holding all the cards. I was afraid of him. I was afraid of what he would do if I made him mad, and I was afraid of going to jail if he had to call the detective. Then he told us to get on our knees in front of him. I did as I was told, but she kept crying �Do we really have to do this? What does this have to do with the investigation?�
Then he dropped the bomb that completely shattered my world. �There IS NO INVESTIGATION.� I could swear that he hissed the words like some kind of snake demon. �I�m no loss prevention officer and that wasn�t your regional manager, you dumb sluts!� It took a while for it to sink in, so he told us that didn�t matter because unless we wanted the video and pictures to end up on the internet, unless we wanted all of our friends, teachers, and people that don�t like us to see what we did, we would do what he wanted. Then he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her down to her knees in front of him and told her to unzip his pants and take out his c*ck and put it in her mouth. She slowly did it, and once it was in her mouth, he told me to put my mouth on him too. He took his video camera and made sure he got plenty of footage of us both pleasing him simultaneously. He took his clothes off and then told us he had a surprise for us. He told us to bend over the table, right next to each other. Then he went in his bag and grabbed a tape and went over to the vhs player in the room and turned on the large tv on the wall and soon the tape started playing. It was the tape they made of when they strip searched/raped the other girl. He started raping us again, going from one of our pussies to the other and back again. All the while he made us watch what they did to her. It was bad enough for me, being raped while having to watch it, but I couldn�t imagine how bad it must be for her. Remember how the �detective� asked if I shaved �down there?� Well I found out why. Apparently the other girl wasn�t shaved when they searched her, so they shaved her right there on the table, on video �to make sure she wasn�t concealing anything.� While he was raping us, he told us to make out for him. It was very awkward for me because I had never considered kissing a girl before, and now I had to make out with one, while being raped� while we were BOTH being raped. Then her to lay on the table and spread her legs. I thought he was going to start raping her, but instead he forced my head between her legs and told me that if I knew what was good for me, I�d eat her out. He said that I had to eat her out until she came. All the while, he kept raping me. He made sure to get plenty of video footage of me doing that too.
Eventually she shuddered (I think she was faking) like she was orgasming. So he pulled out of my p*ssy and made me use my mouth to �clean him off.� He then put the camera in my face and interviewed me about how I liked the taste of my own p*ssy and how I liked eating her p*ssy. He asked me if I�d ever tasted my own p*ssy before, he asked me about my masturbating habits, he asked me if I�d ever eaten another girl out before. He did everything he could to further my humiliation and he captured every second on camera so he could use it against me. Then he told me to lay on the table and he proceeded to rape the other girl while making her eat me out. But he got kind of bored of that, so he made us 69 while he continued to rape her. After God only knows how long of that treatment, he made us get on our knees in front of him and he finished on our faces and made sure to get a good amount in our mouths. Then he ordered us to French kiss and share what we had in our mouths and then swallow. I prayed for God to strike him dead, or for my sake, to put me out of my misery by striking me dead. While we were doing that, he went and changed the tape and the tape of my first rape/strip search started playing. He made us watch it, he fast forwarded to the �good parts� and made cruel jokes and asked me what I was thinking here, and if I liked what they were doing there. He asked the other girl what she thought of me. After he�d rested enough, he told us to bend over the table again, and I prepared for him to rape me some more. But this time he put it in my butt. I cried, I did my best not to scream, and he told me to suck on the other girls breasts to keep my mouth occupied. Of course, I did as I was told and he got it on video. I screamed into her breasts like a pillow. She held my head tight to her chest and stroked my head to comfort me. In the background I heard the tape of my first rape still playing. I kept hearing the word �I concur� and it made me want to die. He told her that she was next and she started crying into my hair. All of a sudden my head was yanked up by my hair and he asked me if I wanted him to stop. I cried that I did, but he didn�t stop. He told me that I got to choose. I could let him keep raping my butthole, or he could swap and rape my �new girlfriend�s butthole.� I wanted him to stop. I just couldn�t bring myself to tell him to hurt her more. I felt protective of her. I told myself this was why God refused to kill me, so I could protect her and take it for her. So I told him to keep raping me and not to hurt her� he did anyways. He kept raping me for a little, but then he pulled out of me and just grabbed her and bent her body into position and started pushing his c*ck into her butthole. She started crying when he grabbed her by her hair and told her to eat my p*ssy some more. He reminded her that she never made me orgasm and said that when I came, he�d stop. She did as she was told and I laid there wondering if it had been long enough yet or if I should wait a little longer to fake my orgasm to make him stop. I didn�t want to do it too soon because I didn�t want it to be obvious that I was faking. Eventually I did fake my orgasm. She stopped what she was doing but he said he wasn�t done yet and told her to suck on my tits while he finished. It seemed like forever, but he eventually finished inside her butt.
Once he was done he put his clothes back on, but told us to stay on the table and to 69. He disassembled the tripod and put the cameras away. He told us to watch his �favorite part� on the video, it was when they were leaving, they stopped by the Customer Service Desk and zoomed the camera in on a picture behind the counter of the regional manager. He looked nothing like the guy that was with him last time! I was duped and I should have known it! I should have paid attention to that picture and known that he was not the regional manager! I�m such a F*cking idiot! He then took the trash barrel out of the room and said that when he came back, we had better still be 69-ing.

He never came back. We were discovered by the closing manager as he was doing his final walkthrough before going home. The store had been closed for an hour already. We cried and told him that we were raped and blackmailed. The manager didn�t believe us. He told us that he didn�t believe us and that he didn�t know why we were having sex in the conference room after close but that making up stories wouldn�t make it any better. He kept looking at our naked bodies. I don�t know why, but I didn�t even make an effort to cover myself. I didn�t even think to. He saw our breasts, our pussies, our whole naked bodies. He told us that he was going to finish his walk through and that we had better be gone by the time he was done because he wasn�t going to check back on us, he was just going to set the alarm and lock the doors. Once he left we ran out of the room, looking for the trash bag full of our clothes and my purse. My cell phone, my keys to my parents� car, everything was gone, and worst of all, I had no clothes. The other girl�s keys to her home were in her locker, but the key to her lock on her locker was in her pants. The bastard took off and left us there with NOTHING, not even a way to get home. We grabbed aprons from the break room and put one on to cover our fronts and one to cover our backsides. It was the best we could do, but we ran out of the building as fast as we could. We both agreed not to tell anyone about this, and then we went our separate ways and walked to our homes. She lived about half a mile away, and I lived a mile in the opposite direction. My parents weren�t home when I got there, but luckily the door was unlocked. I took a shower and thought up a lie to tell my parents when they got home. I told them that my purse was stolen out of the break room and that�s why I didn�t drive the car home. I never told them about what happened.
I didn�t sleep for the next two days. I just cried all night in my bed until I had to get up and put on a brave face for everyone during the days. I never ran out of tears. I just cried and cried and cried. I felt so used and cheap. I felt so worthless. I used to think of myself as one of the most attractive girls in my school and at work. Guys would have done anything just to see me naked, but these bastards just waltzed right into my life and decided that for nothing they would use and abuse me and get what every guy wanted and more and then use it to blackmail me into doing it again, and doing it with another girl. I wanted them to die. I wanted them to go to prison and be raped every day of a very long prison sentence and then get murdered in prison for what they did. I wanted to feel the way I used to feel. I wanted to like my body again. Instead, I tried to cut my breasts off with a kitchen knife. But I�m stupid and the knife was dull and I didn�t get too far. I just got minor cuts. I stopped wearing make up and wore baggy clothes. But I never told any of my friends at school, and I did my best to hide everything. But my friends must have picked up on it at some level because before long, my friends stopped talking to me. They stopped calling, texting, IM-ing me. They stopped talking to me in the halls. No one ever told me why. I was paranoid that the pictures and/or video had gotten out and they�d seen what happened to me. Guys stopped hanging around me. It was like everyone was avoiding me. I just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be.

But then I got raped by him again.

Found this....the link to the site : http://www.babble.com/babble-voices/a-focused-life-me-ra-koh/13-characteristics-of-a-date-rapist-a-list-you-need-to-share/

13 Characteristics of a Date Rapist: A List You Need to Share

I spoke around the country on the topic of sexual assault after publishing my first book, Beauty Restored: Finding Life and Hope After Date Rape. Whenever I would read this list, the room would go silent. And I heard the cry of my own heart as college student after college student, teen after teen, said “If only I had heard this list before I was raped. Maybe I would have known.” Below are thirteen characteristics of Date/Acquaintance Rapists. If you know someone who is displaying these characteristics, does that make them a rapist?

No.

But if you know someone who is in a relationship with someone exhibiting several of these behaviors, and especially if that someone is you, you can be affirmed through this list that this person is not a safe or healthy person to be in intimate relationship with. This is the list I wish I would have known before my own date rape. This is the list I’ve shared with thousands of youths, college students and women conferences over the last twenty years.

Below this list, I will share how these characteristics looked in my story with the numbers of the specific characteristic inserted at different points, so you can see how this list plays out in real life. In light of the current news, I encourage you to share these thirteen characteristics with all the young people in your life–especially those in a place of vulnerability.

13 Characteristics of Date/Acquaintance Rapists

Although there is no profile of a typical date or acquaintance rapist, experts have identified behavioral characteristics that tend to be exhibited by date and acquaintance rapists.

1. Displays anger or aggression, either physically or verbally (The anger need not be directed toward you, but may be displayed during conversations by general negative references to women, vulgarity, curtness toward others, and the like. Women are often viewed as adversaries.)

2. Displays a short temper; slaps and/or twists arms

3. Acts excessively jealous and/or possessive (Be especially suspicious of this behavior if you have recently met the person or are on a first or second date.)

4. Ignores your space boundaries by coming too close or placing his hand on your thigh, etc. (Be particularly cognizant of this behavior when it is displayed in public.)

5. Ignores your wishes

6. Attempts to make you feel guilty or accuses you of being uptight

7. Becomes hostile and/or increasingly more aggressive when you say no

8. Acts particularly friendly at a party or bar and tries to separate you from your friends

9. Insists on being alone with you on a first date

10. Demands your attention or compliance at inappropriate times, such as during class

11. Acts immaturely; shows little empathy or feeling for others and displays little social conscience

12. Asks personal questions and is interested in knowing more about you than you want to tell him

13. Subscribes excessively to traditional male and female stereotypes

*excerpt from Beauty Restored: Finding Life and Hope After Date Rape and Adapted from Carol Pritchard’s book, Avoiding Rape On and Off Campus

I met him the first week of my college freshmen orientation. He was charming, funny and a leader on campus. He was studying to be a Youth Pastor. I had never been away from home, and due to a painful relationship with my dad, I was hungry for love and attention.

The same week, he showed up at my dorm room. I remember wondering how he knew where I lived, but pushed the question aside. He asked if I wanted to go out on a date. I suggested a group date, but he pushed for time alone. I ignored the uncomfortable feeling inside and agreed (#9). The older girls were excited for me. They knew him, and he was funny with everyone. Why should I worry?

Soon after, we started dating more consistently. At first, he loved everything about me. But after a few weeks, things shifted. I remember coming out to the dorm lobby to meet him for dinner, and he asked me why I had chosen to wear something so awful. I went back to my dorm room embarrassed, in tears, and changed my clothes. He began telling me that my friends were talking about me and were not to be trusted (#8). I should spend more time with him, and after all, I hardly knew these new college friends.

One day, while driving in the car, I disagreed with something he said. He grabbed my thigh and squeezed tightly. While holding my thigh and smiling, he calmly told me that I was out of line. I felt trapped and afraid, but again, I didn’t listen. Then he let go of my leg and laughed. This was the beginning of him grabbing my thigh with an iron grip when he wanted me to pay attention (#4 and #7). If only I had known this was an actual characteristic of date rapists.

When I finally broke off the relationship, he followed me everywhere. He wanted another chance, another date, another opportunity to make up for how wrong things were going. No matter how many times I said no, he didn’t give up. Flowers showed up at my door, cards with confessions of love. He felt that God had brought us together. I was being too uptight, unforgiving. How could I not give him another chance, he asked. The girls around me swooned. Was I making a big deal out of nothing? He would not accept no for an answer. (#5 and #6)

So I agreed to one more date, as friends, on Valentine’s Day. But after dinner, he didn’t take me back to my dorm. He took me to an abandoned parking lot.

I remember being trapped, unable to get free from the car.

I remember the moment I gave up fighting and went far away in my head to survive what was happening to my body.

I remember him driving me back to my dorm, telling me that he’d give me a call some time soon, with a casual smile and wave goodbye.

I remember standing in the shower with all my clothes on, shaking and crying.

I remember changing the way I dressed, so that baggy clothes and dark colors hid my shape, my joy, hid me.

I remember hearing that he had done this before. I was number four.

I remember standing in the court room. Alone. And a woman judge asking me why I didn’t just get out of the car if things were “that bad”.

I remember feeling raped a second time by the court system.

It was Valentine’s Day, over 21 years ago.

If someone would have told me about these thirteen characteristics, I may have realized my gut instinct was in fact, telling me the truth. I may have thought twice about spending time with him. And even though everyone on campus seemed to love him, I may have given this list a second look and decided not to date him. But I never saw the list, and I was a broken nineteen year old who had zero self worth.

Before I became a photographer, I authored the book Beauty Restored: Finding Life and Hope After Date Rape. I spoke wherever I could – at women’s conferences, college campuses, and youth groups – and did over 40 national TV and radio interviews to bring awareness to a topic that is often kept quiet.

In my many years of speaking, I have witnessed how far reaching date rape is. I have held high school girls in my arms as they have sobbed uncontrollably. I have seen junior high boys weep under the chairs of the church. I have had grandmas confess that they have not told anyone of their rape for over 60 years. The loss in their voice, the grief, believing that swallowing the shame year after year was necessary.

These characteristics came to me after my rape. But you can share this list with friends, young people, youth groups, and college students to help prevent this horrible crime. Awareness is the key. Awareness has the power to make all the difference. Date/Acquaintance rape is never about sex, but power. The mind often feels crazy, second guessing everything, wondering if you are making a big deal out of nothing. And too often, I have found that the victim has been deprived of healthy love to know the difference. But we can change that. With our culture struggling to know how to respond to rape, you can have a powerful conversation with the young people you know. Working together, we can stop the shame and confusion. And even speak a word of hope to the one who is already hurting in silence.

*Learn more about Me Ra and her story.

You can find her at merakoh.com.

Like Me Ra on Facebook and Follow Her on Twitter.